


Moral Indulgence

by seasidesunset



Series: Strange Flesh [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Biblical References, Body Worship, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Voyeur Castiel, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 20:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1563167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasidesunset/pseuds/seasidesunset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel sees Deans masturbation as an act of worship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moral Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

> Likely the first in a series of Castiel watching Dean masturbate and have sex.

Castiel loves to watch.

Dean doesn’t know it. But it almost feels like he does sometimes, like he’s putting on a show just for Cas. The way he runs his hands all across his own body, touching and feeling.

Cas often wonders if Dean remembers that he was the one who pieced that lovely body back together. In moments of indulgence, Castiel like to pretend that’s what Dean is thinking about.

Sometimes it’s not as slow and calculated. Sometimes Dean will jerk himself quickly in the shower; one hand fisting his cock, the other over his mouth to stifle the moans. Cas doesn’t like those times as much.

It’s when Sam’s gone for one reason or another, most likely seeking out Ruby and her blood. And it’s when Dean doesn’t think any angels are going to seek him out for the time being. That’s when Dean is alone, and he can truly enjoy himself, and worship his own body as it should be worshipped.

Castiel didn’t mean to at first. He only entered their room to check on Dean, when he found the man sprawled out and nude on his bed, gasping. A bolt of worry shot through him at first, followed them by understanding, and a feeling of wrongness and perversion in his gut. He should have left right then, but he didn’t. He watched unseen as Dean stroked himself, moaning and shuddering at his own touch.

Castiel knew it was wrong to look upon this, but he made excuses in his mind. If any of the other angels ever asked, he was only watching after his charge.

It’s holy though. It’s worship in it’s purest, rawest form. The way Dean explores the body God had made for him, the body Castiel had remade. Castiel is doing nothing more than indulging in God’s creation by watching it’s practices.

Dean had been antsy all day today, and Castiel pretends not to know it’s because he hasn’t touched himself in a while. Castiel let’s the boys head back the their motel room, remaining unseen by them. He’s only watching after his charge. It’s the smartest thing to do really, when Dean’s at his most vulnerable.

Sam’s as tightly wound as Dean, looking for his own relief, and heads off quickly with a vague mention of food and supplies. Dean is left alone. He watches Sam drive off before laying back down on the bed and quickly undoing his belt and shoving his pants and underwear down to his ankles.

Castiel lets a small smile grace his lips as Dean rucks up his shirt. He likes it best when Dean lets himself get entirely naked. When Dean feels safe enough to let himself be exposed and open and bare. And it all feels like a display just for Cas.

Dean closes his eyes and lets his head turn to the side as he circles spit-slicked fingers around his nipples. Castiel loves seeing the way Dean treats his own body. The Righteous Man, the Holy Vessel, the Michael Sword. He has to wonder if Michael will ever know the loving touches Dean treats himself to. It’s nothing Cas would ever admit to seeing, but a wonderful praise nevertheless.

Dean lets a groan escape his lips as his hands move down to his cock. Castiel watches on, wanting to make some sort of contact with Dean. He doesn’t want to touch Dean the way he touches himself, it would be sin. He wants to hold Dean while the man gives himself pleasure. He wants to whisper praises in his ear on how beautiful and strong and holy he is. He wants to feel Dean tremble in his arms under the knowledge of how righteous and amazing he is.

Dean’s eyes are fixed on his hands as he rubs his thumb over the head of his cock. there’s something about that that Castiel enjoy. Dean watching himself through heavy lids, a wonderful sort of lust to it. No porn right now, no women to entertain his fancies, just Dean exalting his body in the way he should. Cas wishes Dean could see the way his soul outshines itself as well, and truly worship himself the way he should.

Dean slowly brings his hand up and down his shaft, the other reaching down to rub at his balls. He takes them each in hand, palming at the soft skin of them. Dean lets his fingers flit along a the veins of his cock. He lets out a relaxed sigh as body rolls smoothly up in response to his own ministrations.

He worries sometimes, if the way he sees Dean borders on blasphemy. He would never stoop to the levels of those before him, never worship Dean with his own body. Many of his brothers have indulged in lust and sex and all sorts of defilement before. But the idolatry he would commit by letting himself lay hands on Dean. But he supposes he may as well gouge his eyes out, for they’re sinning against him now.

Dean takes a moment to pull kick his pants off and his shirt up and away, then running his hands down his chest. Once or twice before, Dean’s placed a hand on Cas’ print on his shoulder before or while getting himself off. Castiel knows that it can’t be for him, but the touch sends waves through him, to know he occurs to Dean at times like this. 

Cas wants to place his hand back on the mark, to remind Dean that his body was sewn back using the threads of Castiel’s own grace. He wants Dean to know the powers that brought him together as he falls apart in Castiel’s arms. This is holy, Castiel thinks. Dean massages the inside of his thighs with brushing fingers, while the others tweak at one of his nipples. This is praise and worship of God’s work. And Castiel’s, but pride is a sin; as bad of one as blaspheme or lust or idolatry. Dean pushes himself to the very edge, giving every piece of himself the attention it deserves.

Dean places his hands parallel one another on his hips, and lets his touch stray back inside his thighs, pulling his legs apart. Dean reaches, grabbing at his own ass. Castiel watches in slight fear his legs spread wider. He’s seen Dean finger himself before. He can’t watch then. Can’t let himself watch. Because when Dean pushes his fingers inside himself, it drives him wilder than just the hands on his cock ever have. Dean bucks his hips in dirty little thrusts against himself, gives desperate groans and gasps, sometimes spilling his come over his chest without even touching his cock.

Castiel tries to stop himself from watching those times. He won’t, he can’t, he shouldn’t. When Dean does that, it’s no longer a praise of his body for the heavenly creation it is.

Dean’s fingers inside his body aren’t a prayer, but a plead. Castiel knows that the fingers alone aren’t what Dean wants, it’s only in lieu of not having more. They’re a substitute for the opposite of what Castiel is here to look upon. He can’t watch with reverence upon Dean begging for bodily sin. But as Dean opens his legs wide, Castiel wants to place himself between them. He wants to hold Dean and whisper to him how pure and wonderful and worthy he is. He wants for Dean to come apart so wholly by Castiel, not his own hand.

Thankfully Dean’s hands slide back up, onto his cock again. Castiel is relieved he doesn’t have to watch Dean sodomize himself; giving worship as it should be given instead of demands more in such a sinful, wanton way.

But Dean is wanton and rash in the way he presents himself. Castiel nearly hates his charge for it, in the dark moments when he wants to thrust himself into Dean’s body, or let his lips trace where Dean’s hands have gone, all while telling Dean every devotion he’s thought while watching the man. He rebukes these thoughts when they surface, and prays forgiveness for even thinking of arousing or awakening love when it is not given. Not only not given, but not his to take. He cannot adulterate Dean, nor give in to temptation within himself.

Dean has both hands pumping his own cock. There’s a reckless, wild abandon in the way he glorifies his body at this point. He moans and gasps, desperate for gratification. Castiel wants to ease his back out, calm Dean with gentle touches and let Dean embrace his devoutness in warm, private trembles against Cas’ chest.

Dean convulses, spilling his seed on his own hand. Castiel wants to appear to him now, to tell him how wonderful he was, and how blessed it is for Castiel to be able to watch such praises upon a heavenly body.

But the moment’s past, and Dean is wiping his mess up with tissues before putting back on his clothes. Dean throws something arbitrary on the television, and Castiel leaves to find a quiet place to seek out penance for his thoughts of sin against Dean, God, and himself.

 


End file.
